Just A Cold
by T.H.Fictions
Summary: Scott Tracy was not pleased. Then again, at least it was just a cold... Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

I'm sorry!

Phew, I thought It'd be best to get the apologies over and done with. This is my first story and I'm sure there will be some mistakes. Nobody is perfect, but I have tried my best to weed out any errors spotted. As well as saying sorry, I would also like to thank all of you for taking the time to read my work. (The random musings of a mad girl). I would greatly appreciate any feedback as it means that I can improve my writing and possibly your future experiences.

\- Love Thea x

* * *

Scott Tracy was not pleased.

It had all started four days ago; a small satellite had been knocked off course and needed assistance. As simple as that. Within minutes of the call, Alan and Scott had been strapped into Thunderbird 3, followed shortly after by the mighty roar of her powerful engines as they were launched into space. Once they had broken through Earth's atmosphere, the two rescuers quickly arrived at the coordinates John had sent through and identified the satellite in distress. Carefully assessing its slow and uncontrolled spin, as well as the dangerous new course projection, the two boys consulted with John and Brains to formulate a plan. Easily coming to an agreement over roles, despite Alan's initial objections about being stuck inside, sure enough, the rescue went off without a hitch.

Alan's precision flying, in addition to the spacecraft's advanced navigational technology, allowed him to utilise Three's thrusters and extendable arms to stop the spin and gently manoeuvre the satellite back on course.

Meanwhile, it was Scott's turn to take a trip outside in order to check on the satellite's crew and help repair any damage. It was only a short journey between TB3 and the satellite, and although Alan would argue he had drawn the short straw, Scott's role was far from the sunshine and rainbows the youngest Tracy thought it to be. In fact, for the majority of the mission, International Rescue's field commander was stuck in an enclosed space with two living Petri dishes.

Hindsight revealed that Scott's decision to take off his helmet had ultimately lead to his downfall. In his defence, with the environmental controls damaged, it was swelteringly hot inside the satellite. The headgear had become increasingly stuffy and claustrophobic, making it more of a hindrance than anything else. However, it also meant that Scott was left exposed to the virus that the two space monitors had been infected with just a few days prior. According to the sickly engineer onboard, the delivery driver of their monthly supply shipment was not the most hygienic of men, and just hours after his visit, the crew found themselves experiencing the symptoms of a cold.

Scott hadn't been worried then.

Therefore, waking up the next day with a sore throat and blocked nose was an unwelcome surprise. Dejectedly, Scott went into self-imposed isolation for the next 72 hours. Not only did he not want his brothers (let's face it, mainly Virgil) to worry about him, but, more importantly, he had to make sure the illness didn't spread across the island. It was bad enough that IR's field commander wasn't at 100%, having nearly the entire team off their game was just dangerous.

So, for the last three days, Scott worked himself into the ground managing Tracy Industries and reviewing the latest of Brains' experiments, on top of all the maintenance, upgrades and repairs to be completed for Thunderbird 1. Scott justified that it all needed to be done at some point anyway and it gave him the perfect excuse to avoid contact with his brothers without raising suspicion. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to do this alone, and during this period he was sure he had wiped out most of the islands tissue supply and probably taken more than the recommended amount of painkillers. Not without good reason though. The stacks of crucial paperwork concerning the future financial investments of Tracy Industries demanded his full attention, and being distracted by the jackhammer in his head wasn't an option. Luckily Brains' version of the off-the-shelf medication didn't come with the drowsy side effects; being alert at all times was a vital part of being a rescue organisation after all and Scott trusted Brains had included a wide safety margin when it came to the dosage.

Admittedly, the rational part of Scott knew that he should have been resting. His aching body was forever on the edge of throwing a temper tantrum like a toddler needing a nap, but it just wasn't in his nature. Due to his time in USAF and helping raise his four unruly brothers, 'Pyjama days' and sleeping late were things he had never experienced.

Of course, if the situation was flipped, Scott wouldn't hesitate to order his brothers to bed. He was a hypocrite like that. Scott knew it. His brothers most definitely knew it, taking pleasure in constantly reminding him of the fact. However, he had something that none of his siblings had. The 'Oldest Brother' card. Just muttering the phrase, 'I'm the oldest' would send his brothers spiralling into an exasperated rage. It could be both a gift and a curse, but in these situations, Scott often found it to be the former.

Interestingly, John had once told Scott that the oldest had a 'seriously messed up sense of duty', in that Scott believed he wasn't allowed to be anything less than invulnerable to his brothers.

John was 12 at the time...

And probably right...

He normally was.

It didn't stop Scott though, if a problem could be dealt with on his own, then it was. 'We don't need help' was a mantra drilled into him by their father after their mother passed. Even Lucille's parting words to her eldest son had been to protect his younger brothers. Was it healthy to keep everything bottled up? Unlikely. Despite this, Scott remained determined to never be a burden on his family. Especially after Jeff's unexpected disappearance which had thrown the family into turmoil, forcing the field commander to withdraw into himself further and hardened the eldest's resolve to stay tight-lipped about his new responsibilities and the problems they caused.

Additionally, It was obvious to Scott that Virgil was already unhappy and worried about the sudden increase of his workload. No doubt the team medic would have a fit if he was to learn that Scott was also sick _and_ had knowingly kept it from him. In that case, there would undoubtedly be trouble with a capital V. Thankfully, the week was a quiet one, and Scott had managed to avoid being needed for any more rescues yet. So, at least when he finally gave into the ever-present exhaustion that seemed to hang from his bones, his sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted. Surely that had to count for something?

Of course, the peace wouldn't last forever.

"Scott we have a situation." John's voice echoed from Scott's watch, breaking the latter's train of thought,

"F.A.B. John, on the way." Scott confirmed, dragging himself out from under his duvet and heading out to the lounge.

Thunderbirds Are Go!

* * *

Let me know if I should carry on with this story :)

\- Love Thea x


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone, thank you for all your wonderful comments! I know it's been awhile but I got the inspiration to get back into this and decided to go a bit more in-depth this time around (you may notice a couple of minor tweaks to Chapter 1 too), so let me know what you think :)

\- Love Thea x

* * *

Who could have guessed that plummeting through the earth, all while spinning like a ballerina in a music box, could make you queasy?

Even though Scott had quickly become accustomed to his unique launch chute, recently his stomach was feeling somewhat... 'sensitive'. As a result, by the time he reached the hangar, to say the eldest Tracy felt nauseous would have been an understatement.

Wobbling slightly, Scott walked across the extended platform to his 'Bird with beads of perspiration perching on his brow and any thoughts that he'd finally overcome his bout of illness thrown out. Admittedly, he was feeling much better, but some of the cold's symptoms were still lingering. Nevertheless, Scott had worked with a lot worse, so without wasting any more time, the field commander heaved his body into the waiting chair.

Muscle memory coordinated his movements thereafter, breezing through the pre-flight checks and after confirming everything was in working order, the pilot signalled to Thunderbird 5 for the green light. Scott waited a few moments until the holographic display of John snapped into life.

"Thunderbird 1, you have clearance for launch." The floating form of his younger brother informed him,

"Thanks John, ETA 11 minutes." Scott responded, already flicking the appropriate switches for the launch sequence.

"F.A.B." With that, John's hologram flickered out, and seconds later Thunderbird One launched into the night sky.

Quickly levelling her out into horizontal flight, Scott thought back to the mission briefing and wondered what exactly they were flying into.

 _Earlier_

"What do we know John?" Scott asked, jogging into the lounge,

"It's definitely a strange one Scott. The mayday call I received was from the automatic distress beacon of a cruise ship, it appears that there was some kind of hull breach and they're taking on water. I've tried to get in contact with the captain for more information, but I'm being locked out of their systems. For some reason it doesn't appear that they are evacuating the ship, what are your thoughts?" John questioned the eldest.

"It does seem odd-" Scott wondered aloud, only to be interrupted as Alan jumped up from the coach, waving his hands into the chair,

"Maybe it's a trap, we haven't heard from the Hood in a while."

"Even if it is, we can't take the risk that there are real lives in danger. Are we sure this isn't a false alarm John?" Scott proposed, crossing his arms and pacing in front of the monitor out of habit.

"EOS is definitely registering life signs on board, we can't get an exact reading, but my best guess would be between 120 to 160 people. Plus, the ship hasn't moved position since the beacon was activated." John replied.

"Ok, I'll head over now and find out what I can. Virgil, you take Gordon and Alan in Two, if the ships hull is damaged we may need Thunderbird 4." Scott ordered, moving to the launch shoot for Thunderbird 1.

 _Now_

Scott didn't think this was one of the Hood's schemes, but he had a bad feeling nonetheless. Clenching the controls harder, he pushed One's speed up a notch. If something wasn't right with this rescue, the sooner he knew, the sooner he could warn his brothers of the danger.

* * *

Even as he pulled up overhead, Scott could see the chaos on deck. The cruise ship was listing to the left, and he could make out figures scurrying around on-board in an unorganised fashion, though it appeared some recognised the silver rescue craft as many began to point and wave their arms.

"John I'm at the site, I can confirm the ship is in distress with no signs of an evacuation. Have we heard anything from the captain yet?" Scott radioed the satellite operator,

"I managed to get into their communication systems and tried talking to a Captain Hiligar, but he's insisting he doesn't need any assistance." John relayed, frustration lacing his tone.

"Are you sure you're talking to the captain of _this_ ship? You know, the one that's sinking." Scott asked in disbelief,

"Unfortunately so, he wouldn't give me any more information than we already know, do you want to try speaking to him?" John suggested.

Scott sighed, a crucial part of any rescue mission was communication, and when people refuse to cooperate, it could cost lives. Running a hand through his dark locks, the pilot answered, "Yeah John, I need to find out if there's a reason nobody has started to evacuate yet, I have a bad feeling about this one."

"Me too, just be careful. I'm connecting you now." John said. There was a brief pause before the line was filled with heavy breathing and a mixture of sirens and shouting.

"Look here boy, how many times do I have to tell you we don't want your help!" The heavy breathing became a booming and disgruntled voice.

Scott ignored the man's rudeness and answered in what he hoped was a professional and not an accusing tone, "Good evening sir, I'm the field commander of International Rescue, am I correct in assuming this is the captain of the currently sinking cruise ship?"

"I don't care which of you I'm talking to, this is my ship, and I don't know how you've managed to breach our communications, but I can assure you, I _will_ be reporting International Rescue to the GDF for the unauthorised access of our private systems!" The gruff man responded.

Scott heard a quiet snigger in his headset, giving away the fact that John was still listening in. Ignoring his useless threats, the field commander continued, "Captain Hiligar, we received a distress beacon from your ship, we know your hull has been breached, and you're taking on water. We're also aware that no one has attempted to leave the ship, is there something preventing you from taking evacuation measures?"

"I-I - No, everything is fine! We have already started repairs, and there is no need to evacuate, so you can just run off home." Hiligar fumbled, obviously hiding something. In the background, Scott could just make out the mashing of keys under the wailing alarms.

"I'm sorry Captain Hiligar, but I can't do that. I'd like for you to grant us access to the ship's mainframe so my people can run a diagnostic test to see what the problem is. In the meantime, you need to begin evacuating everyone on board, can you tell me if anybody requires medical attention?"

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!? Listen to me _boy_ , this is _my_ ship. I don't know what kind of authority you think you have, but I give the orders around here, so I suggest you turn around and go -" The voice at the other end was cut off by a loud metal groan and more yelling. The situation was clearly deteriorating and time was running short.

"Captain, it sounds like things are getting worse down there. My people need access to your systems, and I need to know if anyone's injured. I can assure you, our only intention is to protect the lives of everyone onboard." Scott reiterated,

"No, no, everybody is fine, and you don't have the authority to access our private systems!" Captain Hiligar argued back once more,

"Captain, with all due respect, I don't care. Your ship is going down, and if you don't shut up and start cooperating, then you're putting the lives of everyone on board at risk. Now, I'm going to ask you one last time - give my men full access to your systems." Scott words came out calm and commanding, but John could hear the carefully concealed fury behind them.

"Why won't you just leave?! I'm not allowed to -" There was another groan of metal over the line, and Scott could see the ship lean slightly more to the left.

"Captain, you need to give me access now!" Scott's demand was followed by a stretch of silence by the captain, and if it wasn't for the panicked voices echoing in the background, the pilot might have thought the man had hung up.

Finally, Scott heard a growl of displeasure before Hiligar spoke up, "... I still don't think this is legal." His complaint was followed closely by loud typing and a burst of static as the captain cut off his feed.

Taking a deep breath and forcing his body to relax in an effort to relieve the pounding in his head, Scott connected to the island. "John, Brains, please tell me you're in."

"Y-yes Scott, I'm pulling up the d-diagnostics now." Brains answered,

"I've just sent you the ships manifest, there are a total of 150 people on board, 37 of which are members of staff." John followed up,

"F.A.B. I'll head down to the ship in a minute and keep One hovering nearby."

"Good luck, that guy is two parts arrogance to one part stupidity. You've got your work cut out for you with him." The space monitor quipped,

"Tell me about it, although I'm starting to suspect someone else may be pulling his strings. Either way, I'll know more once I'm on board, in the meantime John, can you link everyone up?" Scott asked, feeling the pressure of the situation pressing at him to take action.

"Feeds are open." John confirmed as the holograms of Virgil, Gordon and Alan blinked on.

"Thunderbird 2, what's your ETA?" Scott requested, planning the best way to secure the unsteady ship and safely evacuate everyone on board.

"Seven minutes out." Virgil's voice rang clear over the line.

Scott gave one last glance at the ship below before issuing his orders, "Alright. Virgil, drop off Gordon a good distance from the ship, I don't want the force of the Pod hitting the water to destabilise her any further. As soon as Four is down, I'll need you to hold the ship in position and send down the rescue platform. I'll coordinate things on deck and start sending any injured passengers or crew members Alan's way. John, I need you to keep an eye on the weather front moving in from the south and let me know if it looks like it's going to cause a problem. Gordon, find out what's happening with the hull breach. If the damage is minimal and the fuel tanks haven't been affected, it might just be a simple patch and pump job."

Multiple confirmations of F.A.B. came over the line, and with the reassurance that everyone knew what they were doing for the moment, Scott cut the connection.

It was time for a trip outside.

* * *

We all know how that went last time... ;) Sorry this took so long to update, Chapter 3 anyone?

\- Love Thea x


End file.
